When that old sage (Henry David Thoreau) went out into the
woods to be alone and totally self-reliant, he had to borrow
a neighbor's axe to do it.
I think Keats is creeping in here under the New England
under brush. (Hoover never made one of those, did it?).
----- Original Message -----
From: "Carrol Cox" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Saturday, May 06, 2006 7:21 AM
Subject: Re: 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock' was Re: OT: USk Castle
> Rickard A Parker wrote:
> > In a minute there is time
> > For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
> > For I have known them all already, known them all:--
> And he admired the Sage of Concord
> "Too broad ever to make up his mind."
> And the mind of Lourpee at fifty
> Directed him into the room with a certain vagueness
> As if he wd.
> go neither to the left nor the right
> And his painting reflected this habit.
> Canto 28
> No virus found in this incoming message.
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